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PRELUDE 

A Book of Verse 



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PRELUDE 

A Book of Verse 



BY 

MARGUERITE HOPE BENNETT 




THE NEALE PUBLISHING COMPANY 

440 Fourth Avenue, New York 
1919 



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Copyright, 1919, by 
The Neale Publishikq Compaky 



SEP 26191 9 

©CI.A529955 



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TABLE OF CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Youth 9 

Waiting 9 

Enchantment 9 

Catherine Danced 10 

One Day 11 

Autumn 11 

Nightfall 11 

Longing 12 

The Storm 12 

Unveiled 13 

Reflected 14 

Moments 14 

OSTEND 16 

In May 16 

You Came 17 

A Dream of Li6ge 18 

The Answer 18 

Happiness 18 

Rheims 19 

Westward 19 

The Grave of My Heart 20 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

As Thet Pass 20 

In the Night 21 

Death 21 

The Sacrifice 22 

The Truth 23 

Understanding .... 24 



YOUTH 

Like lilac sprays, — 
Faint, mystic, fragrant, — 
Mauve tinted as the hours of dawn. 



WAITING 

The moon-white petals tinged with the blush of life. 

Flutter to earth with a sigh, 

The ceaseless water flows to eternity on the path of a 

moonbeam. 
The soft dove mourns in the poplar tree 
And the willows weep in the shadowed water. 
And I,— 
I wait for a golden song ! 



ENCHANTMENT 

there I see them now 
Lights fainting through the trees 
Like wavering stars at night. 
What are they, mother dear, 
9 



PRELUDE 

And whose are they, for I 
Want to hold them? 
Tell me, please! 

"The lights, my sweet, are wraiths 

Of the ever star-ward surging, 

And you will see them always. 

You of the warm and wondering soul." 



CATHERINE DANCED 

A low awakening note of Gluck 

Through twilight woods 

And from the draperies mystic gray, 

— Beauty — 

In that veiled figure. 

Essence of the afterglow, — 

Gold-dipped trees. 

Dark against a flaming sky, 

Flashes of belated butterflies, 

Deep pools. 

Haunted with crhnson and with gold. 



10 



PRELUDE 



ONE DAY 

The world was a dream of blue and gold, — 

For gold were the trees 

Whose branches flaunted their leafiness 

To the gentian-blooming sky, 

And the mountains were blue 

As fairy flax 

Above the grain-ripe fields. 

AUTUMN 

The blue-shadowed mountains. 
The tender veiled sky, 
The mellow scented fruit, 
Rich and ripe in its maturity, 
And the migrating birds 
Black against an evening sky. 

NIGHTFALL 

And the dark star, Night, 
Fell from the wide-spread dusk of sky 
Through the lilac mists of twilight. 
Dyeing the sunset 's gold 
To the deep blue 
Which became her best. 
11 



PRELUDE 



LONGING 

When the world was a summer garden 

I sighed for thee, 
Oh time of fruitful maturity! 
When the golden bees from the milk-white phlox 

Their limpid sweetness drew, 
I longed for the vagrant birds. 

When the fragrance of summer sweetened the drift- 
ing air 

The heart of me yearned 
For October's fulfillment 

Of April's uncertain intimations 
And rain-drenched promises. 



THE STORM 

I gazed at the autumnal landscape, 

And in my heart I felt that the golden days were 

come; 
When, out of the azure sky, 
As swift as falls the twilight, 

The gray mists enveloped the blue mountain range, 
The fields of golden grain were hid, 
And the sun shone no more. 

12 



PRELUDE 

The wind rode high and swift, 
The earth was wan with darkness, 
And the great drops of rain 
Fell as a shower of diamonds 
From the crown of the storm queen, 
Who followed fast in the wake 
Of her heralds dire. 



UNVEILED 

And I saw in my vision 

Our black death unveiled, 

And lo ! she was a lady of perfect beauty. 

Garbed in fine gray. 

The hue that heralds the dawn ; 

And it was she that guarded 

The gates of paradise. 
And it was through her that Life Everlasting 
was won. 

As through the dawn 

The day is reached. 



13 



PRELUDE 



REFLECTED 

Corjd hue 

And dusky midnight 

In perfect harmony : 

One tiny plant-bug 

By creative nature perfected. 

The cloud islands float 

In the sea-blue sky, 

Like swans on a reflecting lake 



MOMENTS 

The night grows dark, 
The trees sob wearily 
In the languid air; 
The glow of a star 
Shines, and is gone; 
The rain falls hard. 
I gaze into my heart; 
The desolate confusion 
Has no gleam of light,- 
Love is gone ! 



14 



PRELUDE 

There is no enduring joy in me, 
Life as a shattered crystal vase 
Shows only fitful gleams 
From broken happiness ! 

My eyes grow dull to beauty 

And my starved heart breaks ; 

Strange thoughts come seeking me, — 

Ghosts of this very day 

Stalking toward the tents of night! 

The cool of the evening; 
Deepening shadows; 
A star flaming bright, — 
I think of God ! 

Day is near ! 

And the lilac wide-flung cloud of dawn 
With a faint edge, arbutus tinged, 
Veils the form of coming day! 

A butterfly fluttered past, — 

The heart in me was changed, — 

I saw the outlined meadows faint with violets, 

And bleak woods sheathed in living green : 

I heard praises in soft rustlings. 



18 



PRELUDE 

Over the passive earth. 
A shadow broods, 
And on the wings of air 
Night comes down. 

Your message came to-night 

It sifted thru the moonbeams 

On the starlit way 

And brought your love to my heart. 

Fields wide-flung, blank with snow,- 
Cold-sharpened branches 
Stabbing a bleak sky to crimson. 



OSTEND 

A stretch of sand 

Impinging on a sapphire sea, — 

A moving crowd. 

Topped by vivid flames of tilting sunshades. 



IN MAY 

When lilacs were in bloom 
The perfume faintly 
Blew thru budding trees, 
Tinting the warm air 
16 



PRELUDE 

With the color of Spring, 
And making the dreams 
Of silver May ! 



YOU CAME 

Across the twilight fields, 
In the evening calm, 
Like the first star, — 

You! 
Warm as a glowing heart. 
Mystic as the asphodel 
On the plains of Death; 
Beautiful with the love 
Emburned by suffering. 
More on the soul than on the heart. 

And through the starlit evening. 

You, with the shadows 

Of dreams ever present 

In your deep eyes, 

Like reflections of willow branches 

In the clear waters of a shimmering lake. 



17 



PRELUDE 



A DREAM OF LIEGE 

I see the glory that rises 

From shattered pinnacles, 

Like the Phoenix 

Crumbled to dust, 

Revived by the spark immortal 

Of the unfailing beauty in life, 

Rises again fairer and brighter than before. 



THE ANSWER 

And one bright star, 

Gold glimmering 

Sprang through the mountain dusk, — 

Into the sky depths beyond. 

A wish I sent. 

Back to me the desire flamed, 

But not one hope of fulfillment. 



HAPPINESS 

The world is bright, — the sun glows with your love ! 
The leaves whisper tenderly. 
From the heavens I turn my eyes to earth; 

18 



PRELUDE 

At my feet a tiny beetle lies dead, — 

! will your love, so great and lovely a thing, 

Die as this small beetle, — 

Change from thrilling life to death ? 



RHEIMS 

And before us as we gazed 
Gloom-shrouded Rheims appeared; 

We saw ruins ; 
The beauty of the undemolished church 
Was a deep wound in the heart. 

The phantom of a dream. 



WESTWARD 

And you've gone West, my boy, 
Through the portals of the sunset. 
At the bidding of the shrapnel, 
For liberty and peace ! 
You've gone West, my boy, 
And in our souls 
We kneel ! 



19 



PRELUDE 

THE GEAVE OP MY HEART 

A star flamed out 
Over a cross, 
White-gleaming 
Against the stretch 

Of war-swept waste, — 
Marking the plot 
In that vast desert 
Where my heart lies dead. 



AS THEY PASS 

A smile-lit face, 
A light kiss gaily tossed. 

And a Poilu has passed! 

A buoyant phrase 
And a ringing snatch of a song; 

A Tommy's near you now ! 

A countenance 
Darkened with mysterious memories, 

The silent Indian stands. 

A friendly grin 
From Canada's man. 

Who swings by strong and free ! 
20 



PRELUDE 

And last of all 
The man of the hour: the one hope,- 
Strong, grim and purposeful! 



IN THE NIGHT 

Forms passing in the night, 

Brooding stillness; 

Darkness ! 

Measured, tramping footfalls 

On the hardened roads of France: 

Tramp, tramp with buoyant stride; 

Tired, weighted steps returning; 

Passing in the night! 



DEATH 

The moon lies low in a dark sky, 

The air is scented with box-hedge greens and a falling 

rose. 
Pierrot comes in grief, with faltering step ; 
He bears the fragile figure of his beloved, mystic in 

blue and lilac with the crushed poppy tints in 

her hair : 
His loved one is dead. Poor lonely Pierrot! 
Will springtime ever awake again in his soul? 

21 



PRELUDE 



THE SACRIFICE 

White hands 
I loved so weU, 
Pure, fair and wondrous smooth ; 
Hands, whose tender touch on my dead brow, 
Would make the blood surge through 
My veins once more ! 
These hands are yours, my dearest. It is hard to 
leave you ! You are my inspiration, the light of this 
soul, setting out now on a shoreless sea that were 
despair, but for your blessed hands. Your hands are 
for such work as saving souls. They are too fair to 
be soiled by life's endless toils. . . . May they never 
touch life 's grime ! 

My country calls. From you, I draw strength for 
the good that is in me. I go to do my part, dear. 
Pray for me. 

Yes, my darling. It is over. My part has helped, 
and I rejoice. Ah ! but why do you cover those fair 
hands from the eyes whose light they are? And still 
you veil them! Let me slip the white gloves off and 
bring to light that dearest of perfections. 

You say that through them you have done your part 
— What ? — Munitions ! — 

Oh! white, white soul! Oh! greatest of sacrifices! 

22 



PRELUDE 

"Weary hands 
I worship to the end, — 
Pure, blessed and gloriously worn ! 
Hands, whose deep sacrifice burned on my soul, 
Lead me on through the Gates of Gold ! 



THE TRUTH 

We lay in the trench looking at the blue sky while 
the soft spring breeze blew over us with thrilling 
freshness. We sighed unconsciously for bird songs; 
but No Man's Land is without melody. 

Were we dreaming? Surely we were hearing a 
song. ... It rang out glad and free, and we who lis- 
tened knew, with the first notes, God and the uncon- 
querable soul. That stirring voice held us under a 
spell. It ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and we 
were quiet with a new experience of breathless still- 
ness. 

Then with one accord from silence we broke into 
ringing, loud applause. We contrived to send a mes- 
sage into that Saxon trench, begging the man with 
the divine gift, to come out and sing to us again. We 
would not shoot ! 

So each morning for many a day he sang, and we 
lived, it seemed, upon his voice. 

One night orders came to vacate our trench as soon 
23 



PRELUDE 

as possible. In the excitement and hurry of depar- 
ture we could not notify our successors of the Saxon 's 
morning song. 

We heard about it afterwards. 

At dawn he rose from the enemy trench to sing. A 
shot rang through the stillness. He fell dead. 

His fellow-men think and say, ''Treachery!" But 
he knows the truth. And we, we cannot forget ! 



UNDERSTANDING 

The wide world is between us, 
We speak in different tongues. 
Strange seas and unknown lands 
We must cross, defying death; 
But in the clear-swept dawn 
We shall meet and know! 



THE END 



24 



CONGRESS 



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